Charade
by Mickey3
Summary: John had barely moved ten feet from his cell when he doubled over and groaned softly, clutching his stomach at the sudden, intense pain. He swore to himself that, if he ever got his hands on the rotten, vertically challenged son-of-a-bitch who'd poisoned him, he kill the bastard.


**Charade**

By Mickey

Status: Completed 6/21/2009

Season: 2 or later

Spoilers: None

Content Warnings: None

Archive Permission: Ask first. I'll probably say yes.

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for fun and I sure as hell didn't get paid for writin' it. No copyright infringement intended.

Word Count: 2,200

Author's Notes: Written for the stargatedrabbles list's June 6th whump week challenge, Day 2 - poison. Many thanks to Cheryl and Annie for the beta and to Annie for the title!

* * *

"Psssst," John whispered as he walked. "You guys down here?"

John had barely moved ten feet from his cell when he doubled over and groaned softly, clutching his stomach at the sudden, intense pain. He swore to himself that if he ever got his hands on the rotten, vertically challenged son-of-a-bitch who'd poisoned him, he kill the bastard.

It had started off as such a simple mission. Explore a nice new planet that neither Teyla nor Ronon had ever visited, meet with the natives who -going by the pictures the MALP sent back- seemed to be at a technological level of Earth in the early nineteen tens. They'd arrived on the planet on a warm, apparently late spring, day just after four PM Atlantis time. The man who'd greeted them seemed pleasant enough and had referred to himself as "part of the governing body" of his "small, but growing town" and said his name was Làten. At just about five feet tall, Làten certainly seemed unimposing. Still something about the man had sent off silent warning bells in John's mind. No one else seemed to think anything was unusual, so he chalked it up to left over nerves from their previous mission.

Làten had shown them around the own, invited them to dinner, and appeared to be very eager to trade with them. Perhaps, in retrospect, that had been what had kicked John's instincts into gear. When he'd expressed his concerns to his team, Ronon and Teyla hadn't seemed any more tense than usual, and Rodney had told him he was "paranoid and overreacting because of a 'minor' altercation on their last mission". Làten and his people's charade of wanting to be trade partners hadn't lasted long. He'd been a little angry with their blasé attitudes at first, but now he just prayed they were alive and unharmed.

Làten had informed him that he'd been the only one given the poison and that the rest of his team were well, but John wasn't ready to believe him. Not after the day's deception.

Apparently, the inhabitants of this town, which John had later learned housed the _only_ surviving members of the planets population, were all Wraith worshippers. From what Làten had told him, John learned that there was a bounty out on his team. They were all to be captured and turned over to the Wraith. He had been deemed dangerous, but useful because of his ease at controlling Ancient technology and his uncanny ability to escape every time he was captured by the Wraith, and was to be "restrained by any means necessary" until pick up. Rodney was to be captured and turned over because of his intelligence and knowledge of Ancient and Wraith technology. Ronon was to be captured and tagged as a Runner again -it seemed the Wraith missed their plaything. Teyla, because of her unusual connection to the Wraith, was to be turned over so she could be "studied".

The poison was administered only to him because Làten had sensed John's unease with him and had -realized that the Wraith were correct in the estimation that he was dangerous, but more so because he was the leader of his team. It was believed that if John were incapacitated, his team would do as they were told and offer no resistance.

Obviously, Làten and his people didn't know nearly as much about John or his team as they thought they did.

According to Làten, the poison -laced through his food- would cause extreme, incapacitating pain, but was not lethal. Within thirty minutes, he'd feel extreme pain in his abdomen. Approximately thirty minutes after that the pain would spread to his extremities. Within an hour and a half of ingestion, his muscles would seize and he'd be unable to do much more than breathe.

John wasn't buying the non-lethal part.

A second wave of pain speared through his gut, and checking his watch, John knew he'd gone past the thirty-minute mark. If Làten was telling the truth, he had about an hour, give or take a few minutes, to find his team, and the antidote.

Overcoming the three men left to guard him had taken minimal effort, even without his guns, which, along with his tac vest, had been taken earlier. Luckily, the guards had missed the knife had hidden in his boot. He'd used it to threaten the taller guard who'd backed up a little too close to John's cell. Placing his knife against the man's throat, he'd promised to kill him unless the other guards released him. Once free, John had roughly pushed all three men into the cell, locked it, and made his way down the long corridor.

"Psssst," he whispered again. "You guys down here?"

An arm stuck out of a cell several feet away from John and to his left. Immediately recognizing that it belonged to Teyla, he said a silent prayer of thanks and made his way to her cell. Quietly hoping the same key that had freed him would work on her cell. His tension eased ever so slightly as the key turned in the lock and he was able to slide the door open.

"You do not look well," Teyla remarked as she exited her cell.

"Really? What was your first clue?" John snapped. Sighing heavily and running his free hand through his now sweat-soaked hair; he apologized, "Sorry."

Teyla nodded in unspoken response and reached out to support John as the pain tore through his abdomen once again. He allowed her to support him for a minute, just long enough for the pain to pass as he resumed the search for his missing teammates.

Stumbling against another severe burst of pain, John waved off Teyla's help. After several minutes, they reached a door at the end of the corridor.

"Perhaps they were taken to the lower level," Teyla remarked.

John could see the concern in Teyla's eyes as his hand remained tightly clutched at his stomach. Saying nothing, he waited for her to continue.

"I heard Làten say that there are three levels to this prison."

Nodding, John started to turn the handle, but was stopped by needle sharp pains shooting through his stomach again. This time, his hands also hurt badly. He supposed Làten hadn't been lying when he'd warned John that moving around excessively would speed up the process. Gasping for breath and holding his hands to his stomach, he sunk to his knees. He felt, but was unable to acknowledge Teyla's hands on his shoulders, supporting him so he didn't fall.

Several agonizingly slow minutes later the pain finally eased. Shakily and with Teyla's help, he pushed himself back to his feet. Again, he reached for the door and was surprised when it opened with ease. Luckily, the stairs leading down to the next level were not steep or overly long. Searching the level quickly, the pair soon discovered that their friends were not in any of the cells. In fact, they were all unoccupied. At the end of the corridor was another door that opened to yet another stairway, and with Teyla close behind, they made their way down.

This level was comprised of several medical labs instead of cells. In the second lab along the way, John and Teyla found Ronon bound to a bed. Quickly, John removed the gag as Teyla used John's knife to cut through the straps holding him down.

"You okay?" Ronon asked, then added, "You look like crap."

"No," was John's terse reply. With some annoyance, John observed the worried glance his team members exchanged.

Ronon seemed at a loss for words. "They were going to implant another tracking device," he informed them unnecessarily.

John's frown deepened. Just the thought of Ronon being turned back into a runner again angered him. He didn't have time to dwell on it though and merely nodded before leading the way out of the lab.

After searching nearly all of the labs, there was still no sign of Rodney.

The sound of raised voices coming from the last lab on the right caught John's attention. Looking back towards the others, he realized that Teyla and Ronon had heard the noise as well. Silently, the trio made their way down the corridor. They had almost reached the room when John collapsed to the floor, clamping a hand over his mouth to hold back a scream. His legs felt like they were on fire and within moments, the burning sensation spread to his feet and back, flaring intensely before finally subsiding. Biting hard against the pain, he pierced his lip, causing blood to trickle down his chin.

With Ronon and Teyla's help, John pulled himself to his feet. Still gasping for air, he allowed them to support his weight for another few minutes. When the pain finally abated to a manageable level, he headed for the last lab. Even though they were only a few yards away, it felt like miles to John. Each step sent shards of pain up his legs, through his hips, and around to his lower back. Pushing past the pain, he struggled on to reach the door and carefully, he risked peeking in the small window.

"Rodney's being strapped to a table. It looks like there are only two armed guards and two scientists."

This time, the pain started in John's shoulders and radiated down his arms. He tried to stop the scream, but barely managed to muffle it to a low groan. Again, Teyla and Ronon supported him as he rode out the pain. He wanted to protest as they slid him gently to the ground -obviously planning to rescue Rodney on their own, but realized he would be more of a hindrance than a help at this point. It was taking longer for the pain to subside and he knew it was only a matter of time before he would be completely useless in a fight.

Teyla and Ronon leaned him against the wall and John watched as Teyla gave the signal to move in. In less than two minutes, all four of the room's occupants were subdued. John listened as they moved around, obviously binding the four native men and freeing Rodney. By this time, the pain had subsided enough for him to stand, albeit shakily, and he wobbled into the room. Sure enough, the four men were sitting cross-legged on the floor, gagged, hands bound behind their backs. Leaning heavily on the table Rodney had just been freed from, John looked up to see a wide-eyed Rodney staring at him with a mixture of relief and concern.

"They were going to experiment on me," Rodney said, voice shaky. "I think they wanted to find out how the gene therapy worked. I don't know how, but I think they realized that I'm not a natural carrier."

Rodney was clearly rattled by the fact that he'd almost become someone's lab rat. Not trusting his voice, John gave Rodney what he hoped was a confident nod then continued his survey of the lab.

In an unexpected turn of good luck, John realized that all of their packs were in the lab, seemingly untouched. John leaned on Rodney for support as Ronon and Teyla grabbed their gear. Together, they made their way out of the prison as quickly as possible. Luckily, their escape seemed to go unnoticed. Even though the trip to the 'gate was a relatively short one, Ronon wound up having to pick John up -leaving Rodney to struggle with the packs and vests he'd grabbed- and carry him half-way there. The pain had become so intense throughout his body that John could no longer push it aside. Just barely, he managed to refrain from screaming, afraid of drawing attention to his team. The groans, however, he couldn't stop.

By the time they reached the 'gate, John's body was rigid, his face pulled into a tight mask of pain, and he was unconscious.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Good news," Carson began as he addressed Elizabeth and the three concerned members of Colonel Sheppard's team. "The antidote was real. I administered it just a few minutes ago and the colonel's body is already beginning to show signs of improvement. Barring any unexpected complications, I expect he'll make a full recovery and will be on his feet again in a day or two." Smiling at the four relieved faces, he added, "You may sit with him if you wish, but you should know that the antidote also seems to act as a very strong sedative so he'll likely sleep for several hours at least."

News given, Carson turned and left the group to share in their relief privately, or at least as privately as the infirmary would allow, as he went back to the scans he'd been reviewing. Elizabeth said something he couldn't hear then walked to the colonel's bed, whispering something in the man's ear and squeezing his hand, before turning to leave.

Unbeknownst to the team, Carson kept a watchful eye on them as he went about his work.

Patiently, or not so patiently in Rodney's case, the small group gathered around their fallen commander's bed and waited for him to awaken.

**THE END**


End file.
